Breathe
by Sharn-sharn
Summary: Frostkit is a young kit with a severe impairment, and she's not getting better anytime soon. Faced with the terrifying prospect of being an invalid, it only takes one event that seemingly shatters her dream to become a warrior forever. Challenge for CloudClan.
1. Part One

**This is a challenge for CloudClan.**

**Note: I will be doing this in three parts, so as to not have one really long document.**

**. . .**

**Part One**

The sun beat down on them all mercilessly, but the wind that accompanied the heat was a more than welcome addition.

Amidst the chatter of cats as they went about their daily activities, the squeals of kits could be heard. There was a group of them running around, tails raised and excited, happy mews echoing.

Two kits were rolling a ball of moss around, pressing it into the ground with the strength of a newly minted apprentice. Across from the pair, another kit was watching them fixedly, a tiny frown curling at her lips.

Steeling her resolve, she called, "Hey, pass it over here!"

One of the kits, a dark brown tabby tom, looked up. He looked confused at the abrupt interruption, but when he seemed to note who he was gazing at, his narrow, pointed kit features curled into a sneer. It severely distorted his young, youthful face, and anyone who laid eyes on him quickly looked away.

"No!" he spat with surprising venom. "If I pass it to you, then you'll just infect it!"

The she-cat flinched as if struck, her vision blurring. She clenched her jaw, looking down and pressing her paws into the ground. "D-Don't be so mean," she murmured, her gaze fixed firmly on her paws.

The other kit, a dappled, light-brown she-cat, glared reproachfully at the tom. "Yeah!" she cried. "Stop being so mean to Frostkit, Cedarkit!"

Frostkit felt her heart bleeding in surprise- normally it was Cloverkit who teased her, the dappled she-kit's brother watching on the sidelines, and offering the occasional jeering comment.

"Or what?" Cedarkit taunted, a nasty little smile playing at his lips.

Cloverkit didn't even hesitate. "Or I'll tell Blossomcloud," she threatened, her voice eerily calm.

Frostkit winced in sympathy- the two kits' mother, Blossomcloud, was truly a sight when she was enraged and, like many of the other cats in the Clan, disapproved of the nursery kits' treatment of Frostkit and her brother, Dewkit.

Frostkit knew the story so well that she could recite it word for word as it had been told so many times that even the _younger _kits- who were only four moons old_\- _could understand the basic gist of it.

Moons before Frostkit and her brother had been born, the previous ThunderClan deputy, Snowfoot, had met a young RiverClan warrior by the name of Pebblefur, and he had consequently fallen in love with her. Not even three moons after the pair had met, Pebblefur had announced that she had been expecting kits.

Naturally, Snowfoot had been torn- that is, torn between loyalty for his Clan and love for his RiverClan mate. Their final meeting in secret hadn't ended well.

Once they were safely ensconced away in a small clearing away from prying eyes, it was there that Pebblefur began her kitting. And to top everything off, Snowfoot and his mate faced another misfortune- the confrontation between leader and deputy.

Cinderstar had found the pair that fateful day, and it was only by sheer luck that the ThunderClan medicine cat apprentice, Mosslight, happened to be with them. She delivered two kits that day- Frostkit and her brother, Dewkit.

It was also that very reason that she and her brother were mocked so much.

They were half-RiverClan.

And Frostkit hated it.

She hated it _so _much.

She hated the glares, the whispers behind her back when they thought she wasn't listening- she hated _everything._

And it was all because she existed.

If she hadn't been born, then maybe her mother and father wouldn't have been caught and they could have continued meeting in secret.

But as they always said, meeting like that would have only ended in heartbreak.

Frostkit knew it was true.

Just look where it got her parents.

Snowfoot couldn't bring himself to look at her, and he didn't even acknowledge her or Dewkit in the sparse times that he had come to visit his mate in the nursery.

Frostkit knew what it meant.

Her father didn't love her, and he never would.

It was all in his eyes- those hardened blue sheets of ice of his.

They showed _everything_, whether it be anger or sadness, they were like pools to his soul. Almost always, there was sorrow and bitterness trapped inside the blue gaze, and anyone who made contact with him, flinched away with a somewhat startled expression on their face.

Frostkit was jerked from her thoughts when the ball of moss that she had so coveted rolled innocently over to her, its edges slightly brushing against her paws.

Feeling confused, she jerked her gaze from the moss to see the encouraging eyes of Cloverkit.

"Pass it back!" the brown she-kit cried, her voice delighted. "Hurry up, Frostkit!"

Still feeling confused, Frostkit awkwardly batted the moss ball back, and when she saw it slam into Cloverkit's legs, a giggle escaped her lips.

They continued this game for several more minutes, and Frostkit enjoyed every second of it. But as the game progressed, she noticed that her movements were becoming… sluggish. Her breathing sped up, her heart beating almost frantically in her chest. She felt light-headed, and every time she tried to breath, all she could draw in was a shallow, weak rasp.

Frostkit felt panicked, and all she could think was, _not again._

The edges of her vision began to gain dark tinges, and her legs gave out underneath her.

Dimly, Frostkit thought that she could hear Cloverkit screaming in the background, amidst the noise of panicked Clanmates.

Everything went dark and she knew nothing.

**. . .**

When Frostkit woke, it felt as if she were drowning.

She could barely draw in a breath, and when she did, it escaped her lips as a clogged up noise, leaving her feeling terribly sick and nauseous afterwards.

After the first time she woke, Frostkit passed out again, heavy, panting breaths echoing throughout the den.

She drifted for a while, and the second time she woke was for real.

Like before, all Frostkit could do was just lie on her back, sweat-soaked pelt pressing into the mossy bedding beneath her.

When she opened her mouth to breathe, it felt as if something heavy had been placed on her chest. She immediately started coughing, the sharp, hacking noise irritating her already clogged up throat.

A moment later, shuffles echoed throughout the den, and a few seconds later, Frostkit was gently rolled on her side. When that happened, her coughs increased and she was a shuddering mess, foam and saliva dripping from her parted lips.

"Breathe, Frostkit," a gentle voice tinged with sadness instructed.

Frostkit coughed a few more times, managing to mumble out, "… I… can't…"

There was a slight ruffle, and then something round was popped into her mouth, the soothing voice mewing, "It's a juniper berry, Frostkit. Eat it, it'll help you breathe."

Still shuddering, Frostkit did as she was bid, biting down on the berry and cringing at the bitter taste. A few moments later, her effort was rewarded when the weight on her chest eased slightly, allowing her to breathe slightly better.

"Are you alright, Frostkit?" the same voice mewed, the noise of rustling objects echoing around the den. Frostkit smelt something extremely strong in the background, and in her foggy state, she assumed that they were herbs of some sort.

She shuddered when her mouth was suddenly pried open and something was shoved inside. A paw pressed over her mouth prevented her from expelling whatever was inside.

"Chew it, Frostkit," the voice said sternly.

Frostkit opened her eyes, and she blinked uncomprehendingly, registering a smudged blur of white and brown. She shut them again. "It's… too hard," she slurred.

"No, it's not," the voice said. "I know you can do this. You already ate the juniper berry, and that cleared your chest a bit, but now you need to eat this tansy to cure your cough. So eat it, Frostkit, _now_."

Obediently, Frostkit bit down on the herb, making a face at the strong, bitter taste. She could only manage a mouthful, though, and she spat out the remains.

The voice sighed, and if Frostkit were conscious enough, then she would have registered it as being one of disappointment. "Frostkit," it said gently, disrupting her haze of sleepiness, "I need you to swallow one more thing for me. Can you do that?"

Frostkit didn't bother to raise her head to acknowledge the softly spoken demand, and instead sluggishly mewed, "Depends… on what it is."

"A few poppy seeds to help you sleep. Can you swallow them for me?"

"'Kay," she answered without opening her eyes.

When a paw went to her chin, she obediently opened her mouth and in return, the seeds slipped inside. She chewed on them slowly, an overwhelming tiredness pulling at her.

Frostkit felt herself slip away, her grip on reality loosening.

**. . .**

When Frostkit next woke, it was to the sensation of someone sitting beside her, soothingly lapping at her pelt.

She opened her eyes, blinking against the harsh light that pierced her gaze, and she tiredly got to her paws, shutting her eyes in an attempt to rid her eyes of the crust surrounding them.

The cat that had been sitting next to her suddenly gave a cry of joy, and Frostkit jolted.

"Oh, Frostkit!" the cat wept. "I didn't think that you were going to wake up at all!"

Frostkit felt confused, and it didn't help all that much that she was disorientated at the same time. "What happened?" she whispered, her voice rasping.

The cat in front of her was a she-cat with sleek, light-grey fur, and her amber eyes expressed joy at the sight of Frostkit.

"You had another attack," the cat answered softly, and her voice began to crack as she continued: "You were just lying there, Frostkit, and you weren't even _breathing_. It reminded me of your kitting- you weren't breathing then, either. But this attack was far harsher than any of the others… I didn't think that you would wake up this time around."

When Frostkit tried to breathe, the air rattled noisily in her throat. It was a far cry to when it had been clogged up only hours before.

It meant that she was recovering, and it was a faster time than any of her other attacks, she noticed. The attacks that she had suffered had left her unable to even _stand _on her own days after it had happened.

Frostkit hated them, but by the fact that she was recovering so quickly, did it mean that the attacks would one day stop forever?

Mosslight, the medicine cat, had said no.

"How… how long was I sleeping for?" Frostkit croaked, her voice cracking at the third syllable. "How long did _this _one last for?"

The she-cat hesitated, her amber eyes pooling with sadness and… _realisation? _

"Fox dung, Pebblefur!" Frostkit cursed, her eyes blazing. "Stop being so afraid and just _tell me!_"

Pebblefur looked stunned at the sight of her young kit cursing and yelling at the top of her lungs, but the cat didn't seemed to hesitate like she once did, and she mewed, "You were asleep for a full day and night. You gave us quite a scare last night, though. We thought we were going to lose you for sure, but amazingly, you pulled through. You really are a fighter, Frostkit."

Frostkit felt a bitter smile pulling at her lips. "I'm not really a fighter if I can't become a warrior, now, am I?" she asked rhetorically.

Pebblefur sighed. "You know what will happen if you train, Frostkit," she said gently. "You could-"

"I know!" Frostkit spat. "So don't remind me! Besides, it's not as I Mosslight really knows what might happen, and if I _do _die, than it's not as if anyone will miss me."

"That's enough!" Pebblefur said sharply. She looked her daughter straight in the eye. "Don't you _dare _say something like that again, Frostkit! Do you understand?"

"Whatever you say," Frostkit muttered with a roll of her eyes.

"Frostkit!" her mother snapped.

With a sigh, Frostkit attempted to get to her paws, and when her mother tried to support her when she lost her balance, she shot her a glower. "I'm fine!" she snapped, and when Pebblefur flinched minutely, she sighed again and added in a tone with less bite, "Just let me do this, Pebblefur. I _have_ to see if I can, please. If I can't do this by myself, then I'll be weak forever. So, please."

Pebblefur sighed, but Frostkit could see that her mother relented, and she felt relief that her mother wouldn't force her to do something she didn't want.

Shuddering at the feeling of light-headedness that suddenly struck her, she tried her best to get to her best, balancing slightly on her weak limbs and stretching out the stiffness in them.

She wobbled slightly, but she managed to keep herself upright- a far cry to her first try.

There was a slight tightness in her chest, Frostkit noticed, but other than that, she suppose she felt okay. She also had a lingering cough, too- one that refused to clear away.

"You look better standing up," Pebblefur observed, a slight smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Not the shuddering mess that you were only last night."

"How bad was I?" Frostkit asked quietly, a cautious tone lacing her voice when her mother suddenly stiffened.

Finally, Pebblefur answered: "You were barely even breathing, Frostkit," she said softly. "You were just _lying _there, and whenever you opened your mouth to breath, you would cough, and it would sound like you were being choked."

"Let me guess," Frostkit said roughly, swallowing as despair threatened to wrench her in half. "I won't be becoming an apprentice anytime soon, preferably tomorrow, am I?"

Pebblefur looked immensely saddened, and she sat beside Frostkit, gently pressing her side to Frostkit's own. "Oh, sweetheart," she choked. "I think you're completely right."

Frostkit turned her head and buried her face into her mother's shoulder. "Did StarClan give me this… this _disability _because I wasn't supposed to be born?"

Her mother frowned sadly at this, and she mewed, "Oh, Frostkit, don't say things like that. Of course you were meant to be born. Why would you think this? And StarClan didn't want to punish your father _or _me through you and your brother."

"How do you know that what you think isn't true?"

Pebblefur sighed. "Frostkit," she said, and her voice was so kind, so gentle. "When you were born, you weren't born. I honestly thought that you wouldn't the night, but like yesterday proved, you're a born fighter. So, if StarClan wanted you dead, they would have made sure you were when you were born. Luckily, that never happened, and never will until you're old and happy."

"But what if you're wrong?" Frostkit retorted quietly. "What if I really _am _a mistake?"


	2. Part Two

**Part Two**

"All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!" Cinderstar's voice boomed.

Luckily for Frostkit, the clearing beneath the Highrock the close the medicine den, and she didn't have to wander far.

Another day had passed, and Frostkit had made a startling recovery. For the most part, her chest had cleared up, her breathing had returned to normal, and her cough had all but faded away. But despite the miraculous recovery on her part, she felt saddened and empty.

It should be her up there today.

But Frostkit couldn't- because, according to Mosslight, she wasn't _healthy _enough.

Frostkit remembered it with startling clarity, too.

"_But I _am_ strong enough!" Frostkit protested, gazing up at the medicine cat with incredulous eyes._

_She didn't know what sort of nonsense Mosslight was spouting, but, as she had assured multiple times, she was _fine_._

"_Nonsense," Mosslight answered calmly. "You need to rest more."_

"_I. Am. _Fine_," Frostkit punctuated carefully. "So fine, in fact, that I can probably become an apprentice with Dewkit, Cedarkit and Cloverkit tomorrow."_

_Mosslight's eyes suddenly hardened, and she spat, "I don't see how you can train when you have difficulty even _breathing_! Added to the fact that you nearly _died_ only two days ago!"_

_Frostkit sighed, looking at her paws. "Do you think I'll _ever _become a warrior?"_

_Mosslight's eyes softened, and she smiled gently. "I really don't know, Frostkit," she said honestly. "We'll have to see when the time comes."_

_Suddenly, Frostkit had the most absurd idea and, steeling her resolve, she blurted, "If I can't be a warrior, then can I be a medicine cat instead?"_

_Mosslight didn't even hesitate. "No," she said softly, and that one answer shattered every single one of Frostkit's hopes. When the medicine cat saw her expression, she sighed, mewing, "Don't be misunderstood, Frostkit. You just have to consider your… condition."_

"_What do you mean by that?" Frostkit spat, feeling rage and embarrassment boil in her belly. "Are you embarrassed by my… my _disability_?"_

"_It's not what you think, Frostkit," Mosslight reassured quickly. "I only said no because you have to consider the complications that will arise if I accepted your request."_

"_What complications?" Frostkit asked suspiciously._

"_The fact that you could collapse from too much strain put to your muscles," Mosslight answered bluntly. "And to become my apprentice, you would have to journey to the Moonstone. Even _that _journey would be too much for you. You would surely have another attack. And what if you have an attack in the process of treating another cat? Then _I _would have to come and treat would have to come and treat _you_."_

_Frostkit was silent for a long moment, then she sighed in frustration, and she was shocked to feeling hot, stinging tears pricking at her eyes. She hurriedly blinked them away, her face morphing into a despondent look._

"_It's so frustrating," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I hate being so… so _useless_! I can't do _anything_, and soon, ThunderClan will just be feeding an extra mouth. Maybe the other kits _are _right. Maybe I really _am _better off dead."_

"_Don't you _ever _say that!" Mosslight suddenly hissed, her green eyes swirling with anger._

_Frostkit stiffened; was Mosslight angry at _her_?_

"_You can't give up," the medicine cat continued, her voice slightly subdued. "Do you hear me, Frostkit? You are _not _useless. You just have a condition that can be controlled with the proper treatment. And you are _not _better off dead. Whoever told you that was wrong in every single way."_

_Frostkit sniffed, but she didn't look up._

"_You have to be strong, Frostkit," Mosslight murmured, her voice softer. "You have to _show _whoever told you this that you're not taking their words literally."_

"_But I'm weak," Frostkit protested weakly._

"_You are," Mosslight agreed evenly. "As of right now, you are the _weakest _cat in this Clan. But it doesn't have to be that way forever. You _can_ get stronger, and if you fall, then you can just get up again."_

_Mosslight was right, Frostkit realised. She really _was _weak. But she wasn't going to mope around about it. _

_She would get stronger._

_And if she fell, then she would just get back up again._

"This is a proud day for ThunderClan," Cinderstar mewed. "And by naming apprentices, we show ThunderClan will survive and remain strong. Now, Dewkit, Cedarkit, and Cloverkit, from now on until you receive your warrior names, you will be known as Dewpaw, Cedarpaw, and Cloverpaw.

"Iceheart, while I know kin do not normally mentor kin, I have faith in your maturity and your abilities. You will mentor Dewpaw, and I know you will pass down your strength and wisdom to Dewpaw, and teach him the skills that will make him a brave warrior of ThunderClan."

Frostkit watched on in envy as her brother touched noses with his mentor- a pretty long-haired white she-cat.

Iceheart was her father's sister.

Suddenly, Frostkit wondered if Snowfoot was there in the crowd of cats watching his kits- _kit _\- becoming an apprentice.

She highly doubted it.

"Snowfoot," Cinderstar said, his mew a deep rumble, and Frostkit jolted at the sound of her father's name. "You have proved that you can be trusted in the past six moons, and I now know that your loyalty to ThunderClan is unquestionable. I believe that you are ready for an apprentice. You will mentor Cedarpaw, and I trust that you will pass on all you know to him and make us all proud."

ThunderClan was in an uproar, and Frostkit knew that it was hard to trust the cat after such a horrible betrayal, but if the _leader_ was going to trust his old deputy, then the Clan would just have to take it in stride.

Almost grudgingly, Snowfoot padded to the front of the gaggle of cats, his snow-white pelt quite distinct among the numerous blacks, browns and greys.

"H-Hi," Frostkit heard her brother stammer. He sounded horribly nervous which was a rarity for him- usually Dewpaw was the confident one, but right now, in the presence of their father, he looked to be sweating puddles.

Snowfoot didn't answer, nor did he offer acknowledge. He merely tipped his head down and touched noses with his doe-eyed son.

Strangely, Mosslight stood up when Cinderstar looked on the verge of announcing something.

Her green eyes were impatient, which was a rarity for her, but the ThunderClan leader nodded his assent.

"Cats of ThunderClan," the medicine cat boomed, her voice echoing around the clearing. "I know I have only been full medicine for a few, short moons, but I feel the need to take on an apprentice. I will not be going anywhere anytime soon, but I still wish for a cat to teach all I know about medicine. Cloverpaw here, has expressed a special interest in herbs. She wishes to be my apprentice, and I will take her on, and in one half-moon's time, I will take her with me to the Moonstone, where she will become my official apprentice."

Cinderstar didn't even look ruffled by the abrupt announcement, though there was a slight annoyance crinkled around his eyes that suggested that Mosslight hadn't gone to him first. But he mewed anyway, "Cloverpaw, do you accept the post of medicine cat apprentice to Mosslight?"

Cloverpaw looked delighted, as if all her wishes had true in the space of one second. "Yes, Cinderstar," she mewed. "I do."

"Very well," Mosslight murmured, her voice soft. "Then at the half-moon, you must travel to Mothermouth, to be accepted by StarClan before the other medicine cats."

Cloverpaw smiled. "I understand," she mewed excitedly.

"Then the good wishes of all of ThunderClan will go with you," Cinderstar announced, his low, deep voice growling around the clearing.

Frostkit felt something distinct pierce her heart as Cloverpaw and Mosslight touched noses.

Betrayal perhaps?

_No! _She thought harshly. _I have _no _right to feel that emotion!_ _Mosslight made it quite clear that I would be a burden to her._

But when _wasn't _she a burden?

"Cedarpaw, Dewpaw, Cloverpaw!" the Clan cheered. "Cedarpaw, Dewpaw, Cloverpaw!"

Once the cheering had abated something, the medicine cat made her move. "Cinderstar!" she mewed over the chaos. "I have something I need to say."

"Then say it already," the leader replied irritably, his impatience running thick through the entirety of his Clan.

Even Frostkit wanted to know what Mosslight would say.

"Enough!" Cinderstar suddenly boomed, and at his voice, the Clan quietened their chatter, looking up at their leader expectantly. "Let us hear what our medicine has to say, and please, _have some manners!_"

A few of the cats flinched at his ire, but other than that, it was mostly silent.

"What have you to say?" Cinderstar mewed when the chatter had finally died. "Is it important?"

"Very," Mosslight retorted crossly. Then, her expression morphed into one of seriousness. "Cinderstar, I have a request to make."

"And that is?"

Mosslight didn't even hesitate. "I wish to take Frost_paw_ on as a charge of sorts. She won't be an apprentice, oh no," the medicine cat said quickly to the shocked faces around her. "And don't be like that, everyone. Frostkit has feelings, too. So how do you think she feels when all of you are so mean to her, huh? No answer? Good! By becoming my charge, it will give her something to do instead being confined to my den all day, and I might even be able to shed more light on her… condition."

Frostkit hated the way how Mosslight phrased it. Her "_condition_" was a burden on the entire Clan. With it firmly placed on her, Frostkit wouldn't be able to train, hunt and fight with the other apprentices without suffering another attack.

Cinderstar didn't hesitate, but it looked as if he'd deeply pondered the matter before replying. "And is this acceptable to you, Frostpaw?" he finally mewed, looking as though he'd swallowed something sour.

Frostkit just stared at the fearsome leader, noting the aura of disapproval he projected. She knew that he wasn't happy about this, and neither was Frostkit, really. But, as Mosslight had said, she didn't want to be confined to that den all day. Even _if_ Mosslight wanted to shed more light on her… _condition_ as the medicine cat had so aptly put it.

She knew what she wanted to do.

Frostkit ignored her doubts and her fears, and she looked the ThunderClan leader straight in the eye.

"It is," she answered quietly.

She merely smiled tiredly, and maybe even a little in resignation.

It didn't matter what she thought now- because now… now she had a _purpose_.

And she wasn't going to waste it either.

**. . .**

Frostkit had to sleep in the medicine cat den.

She couldn't sleep in the apprentices' den because, as Mosslight had put it, she wasn't an apprentice, and nor was she a kit anymore.

She wasn't a warrior, nor a queen, nor a medicine cat apprentice, nor a deputy, and nor a leader.

So what did that make her?

Frostkit didn't know.

Apparently, she was Mosslight's _charge_.

Frostkit didn't like that term.

It implied that she was burden, and she didn't want that. But she refused to be weak- refused to _back down _as many of ThunderClan would think she would do.

Yes, Frostkit was weak. She was just out of kit-hood, it was to be expected, of course.

But she would get stronger, and if she fell, then she would just get back up again, and she would be stronger than before.

Stronger and more resilient.

So for the next few moons of her life, Frostkit did exactly as Mosslight bid her to do, all the while become _somewhat_ friends with Cloverpaw.

She fetched herbs from the stores, StarClan, she'd even assisted in a _birth_!

But was this all her life was made up for? To be the useless charge of a medicine cat that seemed to have no care for said charge in general, if only for the enlightenment of the strange condition that the charge possessed? A strange sort of disability that next too zero medicine cats had even _heard_ of?

Yes, Frostkit supposed that it went _exactly _like that.

But… there was also the day where she simply ceased to _be_ Frostkit.

The day where fell down, but got up even stronger than before.

That day, Frostkit was boredly picking at a stalk of yarrow with her unsheathed claws. She was waiting instruction from Mosslight, and as she wasn't allowed to do anything without her _guardian's_ position, all she could do was _sit there_ and pick at a piece of _yarrow_.

But then Mosslight padded in, looking slightly worried, and Frostkit instantly knew it was bad- mostly because of the reason that _Cloverpaw was nowhere to be seen_.

"Yes?" she asked crisply as she straightened to her full height.

Amazingly, her frail body had decided to grow bigger and taller in the past four moons.

Frostkit was now ten moons, but she still possessed the "kit" ending to her name. It was strangely ironic in the way that Mosslight called her Frost_paw_ instead of Frost_kit_. It couldn't be avoided then.

"Frostpaw," Mosslight mewed, voice completely businesslike.

Frostkit had to suppress a grin- that was usually rare, she supposed. That is, to see the medicine cat looking so ruffled. It really _had_ to be something serious then.

"What is it?" Frostkit sat up straighter, her eyes proud.

Apparently her eyes were deep, glaring pools of blue when she was serious, and that time was always. At least, that was what her mother would say.

"I have an apprentice coming in right this second," Mosslight said, her eyes and voice hardening. "And since Cloverpaw is nowhere to be seen, _and_ you're my charge, I want you to help me. You've proven yourself more than capable in the treatment of your fellow Clanmates. So please, I need your assistance on this."

"Of course," Frostkit mewed immediately, because really, who was she to argue?

Mosslight had taken her in when no one had wanted to, even _if_ it were something as frivolous as her… _condition_. It was the medicine cat's way of saying she cared, albeit it was slightly twisted.

"Now, I want you to get me some comfrey, for his wounds, of course, as well as cobwebs," Mosslight started to list off. "Oh! And I can't forget the dandelion!"

"I'll get it right now," Frostkit added quickly, and just as she was about to do as her guardian/mentor/parent had instructed, she felt a familiar tightness in her chest.

She immediately cursed, of course, as this was a symptom of one of her slightly minor attacks.

Hopefully she'd just get a slight shortness of breath like her previous one.

Mosslight noticed almost right away- and she _was_ a medicine cat! She was _trained _to notice to notice these types of things.

"And while you're there, get me some feverfew, foxglove leaves and crushed rose thorns," she added hastily. Then, in a slightly softer voice, she mewed, "But before that, I want you to have some coltsfoot. It should help your breathing, and then when you're done, I want you to come back with those ingredients. The cat should be in there by then."

Frostkit did as the medicine cat asked, musing exactly _how_ she became one of Mosslight's apprentices in all but name.

Oh, wait, she was only Mosslight's _charge_.

Frostkit scowled, even as the tightness in her chest twisted harsher.

Was there really a point to such a mundane existence such as this? An existence where she couldn't even _choose_ her own fate?

Frostkit didn't think there was.

But she tried so, _so _hard to make Mosslight happy.

To make her parents happy.

To make her Brother happy.

To make _herself_ happy.

But she wasn't.

She hated her life. Hated how she had become such a burden on the cats that she cared about. Hated the fact that she was slowly detoriating with each attack that she suffered.

But she did as she was told.

She ate the coltsfoot.

She retrieved the comfrey, cobwebs, dandelion, feverfew, foxglove leaves and crushed rose thorns.

She brought them to Mosslight without a fuss, and watched as the medicine cat swiftly began to treat the cat at her white and brown dappled paws.

He was… strange looking, and it was all Frostkit could notice.

Not the strange look that was _bad_. In fact, he was quite normal looking if one deigned to notice. His pelt was a light brown, and there were white patches marking his body, the most prominent patch being on his left back leg.

His _twisted _left back leg.

His face was scrunched up in… pain, perhaps?

Frostkit couldn't tell, but Pebblefur always _had_ said that she'd been horrible at reading others. She was probably right in that aspect. After all, mothers were always supposed to be right.

There were random bite marks littering the cat's strange body, the most prominent and painful looking being on his shoulder.

Frostkit was fascinated.

Mosslight had always said that it was a bad thing when she got fascinated.

Look what happened to the little kit that she'd tried to deliver in that one birth that she'd assisted in.

… It had been stillborn.

"Gyahhh!" the cat groaned, and his entire face scrunched up when Mosslight pressed the foxglove leaves to his shoulder wound.

"Oh, I forgot to give you the dandelion," Mosslight thoughtlessly mewed. Her gaze snapped to Frostkit. "Frostpaw, give Pinepaw here the dandelion to soothe his pain."

Amber eyes snapped open, and they narrowed at the thought of something being able to _soothe his pain._

"Of course," Frostkit replied dutifully. Her head dipped toward the dandelion, and she took them into her mouth, coming to sit at… _Pinepaw's _side. "Here," she mewed quietly. "This will help ease your pain."

His face softened, and he took the lifesaving flowers gratefully. He chewed on them carefully, a… _relieved _expression coming to his face.

That peaceful expression softened his entire face, and he didn't look as pained as he had only moments previously.

Mosslight then took that time to press the crushed rose thorns to his wounds, then the cobwebs. His eyes bugged out, but he didn't pass out as she had expected him to.

Frostkit was… impressed.

"Frostpaw," Mosslight addressed her directly. "Have you taken your coltsfoot yet?"

Frostkit nodded distractedly, her eyes still fixed on the cat lying on the bed of moss at her paws.

The tightness in her chest had abated somewhat, but it was still _there_. But even though it was still there, she knew that she wasn't going to suffer an attack that day.

"You're a fighter," Frostkit murmured. Then, she mewed louder, "You're a fighter, Pinepaw!"

His amber eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to reply, but Frostkit turned beseeching eyes to him.

"Teach me to fight!" she burst out. "Please, teach me how to fight like you fight!"


	3. Part Three

**Part Three**

Frostkit was sure that she had never seen a cat look so shocked, but it wasn't the first time that such a face had been directed at her, either.

"What… _what_ did you just say?" the strange looking cat, Pinepaw, mewed. "Could you please repeat that for me?" His eyes closed shut in pain, but Frostkit knew that if they were open, then he would be seeing a white she-cat standing tall and proud, her blue eyes holding a determined glint in them.

"I said that I want you to teach me," Frostkit answered, feeling incredibly proud of herself. "I want you to teach me how to fight like _you_. So, please!"

Pinepaw was looking at her quite oddly now, his expression one of befuddlement.

Or was it just confusion she was seeing there?

Frostkit didn't know either, because she wasn't the best at reading other cats- well, that was what her mother said anyway, and Pebblefur was usually correct.

"You want me to… teach you how to _fight_?" Pinepaw repeated, looking vastly lost.

"Yes," Frostkit responded quite happily, or was she just feeling content?

Hopefully Pinepaw would teach her, after all, he _had_ been born witness to her expertise in healing (more like gathering herbs for the _real_ medicine cat while the _real_ medicine cat apprentice was nowhere to be seen), and she was quite decent at recognising the various herbs that Mosslight kept in her stores, as well as their individual uses.

Frostkit _had_ to pass the time somehow. After all, there wasn't much to do except to sit around and ruminate what _could_ have been if she hadn't had this… _condition_. Like, what her warrior name might have been.

Frostkit found that she rather liked the name Frostheart. The name had a meaning behind it- that is, to always be strong, or was it brave?

Once again, she didn't know- mostly due to the fact that she wasn't trained, and she probably never _would_ become a warrior.

Pinepaw looked _awkward_, there was just no other word to describe him with, and he seemed to hesitate. But when Mosslight began to clean and seal the other wounds on his body, his eyes bulged out of their sockets, and his wide amber eyes met her own blue ones, pity and understanding in their dark depths.

"Will you?" Frostkit pressed. "Will you teach me?"

His head flopped to one side, but his gaze never broke with hers, remaining fixed on her face with an intensity that almost made her blush. The key word being _almost_.

Then, he smiled, and it softened his entire face; erasing the pain-filled creases around his mouth and eyes. "I will," he whispered, his voice low and soft. "But I have to warn you: I'm fighting on three legs. With me as a teacher, you'll be at a disadvantage."

"I don't care," Frostkit said immediately, her entire face lighting up with her smile. "Because it means that we're the same. We're _both_ at a disadvantage, you with your leg and me with my breathing problems."

Pinepaw nodded, and he rolled over onto his side to face her, wincing the slightest bit at the pain of his injuries.

His belly was a dark, russet colour, Frostkit noticed.

It was strange, but for Pinepaw, strange was _good_.

Pinepaw smiled.

It was a strange smile, too.

But that was okay.

It was Pinepaw.

Frostkit smiled back.

She would be fine.

And so would he.

**. . .**

"Frostpaw," Mosslight groaned, popping her head into her den. "Do you know where Cloverpaw is? I haven't seen that apprentice since this morning when she claimed to be out _picking herbs_."

Frostkit shrugged, and Mosslight seemed to notice the movement, for her eyes narrowed.

"I think you _do_ know where she is, but you're not telling me. Why is that, Frostpaw?" her guardian growled.

"Maybe it's due to the fact that Cloverpaw's my friend," Frostkit responded calmly, her voice not belying her anxiety and fear.

She knew where Cloverpaw was, of course, but she wasn't about to tell Mosslight _that_. Cloverpaw would have her hide if she did something like that, and Frostkit quite liked hers, thank you very much!

Mosslight sighed, and seemed to come to a decision. "Frostpaw," she mewed. "I want you to check Pinepaw's wounds while I go and look for that wayward apprentice of mine."

Frostkit merely nodded, already getting to her paws. "Okay," she murmured. "I need to be useful one way or another. The least I can do is this."

Mosslight sighed again, and the stress emanating from her seemed palpable. "Taken some aspen tree bark, Frostpaw," the medicine cat mewed, sounding tired and weary. "It should help you feel better."

Frostkit knew what her guardian was implying, and she was correct in assuming that Frostkit wasn't going to mope around about how she felt.

But that was always how she felt, and Frostkit didn't know how to alleviate that sadness, that… _depression._

She took the aspen tree bark anyway.

And Mosslight was right, it _did_ help her feel better, albeit more alert than she usually was. It helped with the stress somewhat.

Frostkit also took some coltsfoot, to soften the tightening in her chest somewhat. She then turned away from Mosslight's stores and approached the nest of moss that Pinepaw was currently resting.

She stopped at the foot, and she just stared at him for a second.

The apprentice was splayed on his belly, so as to not strain any of the wounds on his back and shoulders. He was sleeping, and the tight creases that seemed to permanently accompany the edges of his lips and eyes were gone, softened from slumber.

Frostkit sat beside his body, and ever so gently, she shook his uninjured shoulder, rousing him from his sleep.

It took him a few moments, but woke up, those strange amber eyes of his blinking open.

Pinepaw stared at her for a moment and, when Frostkit silently showed him the goldenrod beside her, he complied and wordlessly sat down.

Frostkit began to chew the goldenrod up, for she knew that a poultice of it would do his wounds good, and maybe even a slather of the juice to ease his pain a little.

As she applied the crushed up mixture to the gaping, though thankfully sealed wound on his shoulder, Pinepaw was silent.

But just as she was starting to smear the juice over the wound, he spoke up: "How come the medicine cat isn't treating me? She was last time."

Frostkit answered as she finished applying the juice, "Mosslight is outside searching for her apprentice. I'm only here because she asked me, because, you see, she's my guardian."

"Is that why you aren't an apprentice?" Pinepaw asked quietly. "Because of your… condition?"

Frostkit dug her paws so hard into the ground that the dirt underneath it began to give way. "Yes," she answered softly. "I'm too useless to be trained, so that's why Mosslight took me under her wing. I'm not her apprentice, per see, but she's all I've got beside my brother and mother."

"Is that why you wanted me to teach you? Because," here, Pinepaw shifted uncomfortably, eying his twisted back leg, "I'm not the best cat to go to. Why not another cat other than me? Like, Snowfoot, for example. I know that the majority of the Clan doesn't trust him, but he was still deputy."

"I asked you because I want to learn how to fight like you do," Frostkit answered simply. "You're strong, Pinepaw, _and_ you're a fighter. I like that."

"But I'm crippled!" he blurted out quickly. "My leg is twisted so badly that I can't even fight properly. Why not ask someone else?"

"Because I didn't want to," Frostkit replied, and she lowered her voice to a whisper as she mewed, "You're just like me, Pinepaw. We're the same, but there's a difference."

"What's that?" Pinepaw asked, swallowing.

"You're stronger than I will _ever_ be," Frostkit whispered.

**. . .**

A moon passed, and Pinepaw's wounds began to steadily heal.

They healed slowly, though, and by the time the moon was up, he could stand without exerting too much energy.

Another thing happened, and Frostkit's friend, Cloverpaw, became Clover_leaf_. The medicine cat apprentice appeared to be delighted over the news, but there was also an overwhelming sadness about her, too. Cloverleaf's shoulders seemed to permanently be slumped, and it was as if she seemed horribly _guilty_ over something.

Frostkit knew what it was, but she couldn't fault her friend for it, either.

She found out the truth the day her brother walked into Mosslight's den.

"Frostpaw," her brother greeted warmly, and she nodded back. He looked around the place in wonder, but Frostkit knew that he had seen it many times before. "Is Mosslight or Cloverleaf nearby? I have a thorn in my paw."

"I can remove it for you," Frostkit offered.

Dewpaw looked at her in slight confusion, but then he chuckled. "Okay," he mewed. "Whatever you want. I mean, I think it's kind of cool that my sister is an apprentice to Mosslight."

"_Charge_," Frostkit corrected. "I'm not an apprentice, Dewpaw, and really, my rank is _technically_ still that of a kit. So I don't know why everyone is calling me Frostpaw."

"You're not a kit anymore," Mosslight suddenly mewed, appearing from thin air. "You're eleven moons old, Frostpaw, so enough with this kit business."

"But it's true," Frostkit protested. "I'm not an apprentice of any kind, nor a warrior."

Mosslight smirked then. "Let me make it official then," she mewed. "And while I may be no leader, I _am_ still a medicine cat and I hold a pretty big authority in this Clan." She ignored Frostkit's look of befuddlement, and continued, "From this moment on, until you are released from my guardianship, you will be known as Frostpaw. You will shed your old name and embrace your new one."

Frostpaw felt a frown pull at her lips, then she looked away, muttering, "You've wanted to do that for _moons_. I know you have."

Mosslight chuckled. "Of course I have," she responded. "I couldn't have my charge wandering around the camp and being called Frostkit when she's eleven moons old, now, could I?"

Frostpaw simply rolled her eyes, and set to removing the thorn in her brother's paw. She swiftly pulled it out and, ignoring his pained, surprised yelp, mewed, "Mosslight, can you please get me some gumweed from your stores? I have to stay here and make sure that Dewpaw doesn't run off and do something stupid with this wound on the bottom of his paw."

Mosslight looked amused. "Of course," she drawled. "I can't have your brother trailing blood all over my den, now. I'll be back in a moment."

When Mosslight returned, Frostpaw chewed up the gumweed into a poultice and then smeared it all over Dewpaw's wound, merely pressing down harder when her brother hissed.

"Shh," she murmured. "If you keep moving, it will only sting worse."

"You seem very," here, Dewpaw clenched his teeth together, "proficient at this. Why not just _become_ a medicine cat?"

"Because I want to become a warrior," Frostpaw responded simply. "And maybe even have kits in the future. And now that I think about it, I really _would_ like to become a mother. It sounds fascinating."

"Remember, Frostpaw, it's never a good thing when you get fascinated," Dewpaw warned. "Look at what happened-"

"To that kit," Frostpaw finished darkly, never once looking up from his paw. "Yes, Dewpaw, I remember. I was _there_. And I still blame myself."

"It wasn't your fault, Frostpaw," her brother said quickly.

"It was. I delivered it," she said glumly.

"Hey, don't close off," Dewpaw mewed, sounding frantic. "Come on, Frostpaw. Don't do this. Think, uh, think of happy things! That's it!"

"There's nothing to think _about_," Frostpaw responded dully, and if she could see herself at that moment, then she would see herself with darkened, stormy blue eyes.

"What about something you care about then?" her brother ventured. "Like, uh, I dunno… that apprentice you're always with. What was his name…? Ah, Pinepaw! That was it! What about Pinepaw?"

"He's merely my patient," she mewed wearily. "And when he's fully healed, he'll be my teacher."

"Eh, teacher?" Dewpaw looked confused. "But isn't Mosslight your teacher?"

"Guardian," Frostpaw corrected absentmindedly. "And yes, Pinepaw will teach me. He promised, after all."

"Maybe he'll teach you to get over your depression," Dewpaw muttered, and he lowered his voice so that Frostpaw had to strain to hear it: "And get over his own in the process."

Frostpaw blinked. "Pinepaw is sad?" she asked, and before her brother could answer, she knew that it was true. Pinepaw always had this sad, faraway look on his face whenever he was ruminating alone.

He looked lonely.

Lonely and _sad_.

The same feelings that Frostpaw herself felt on a daily basis.

"He cares for you, Frostpaw," Dewpaw murmured. "I've seen the way he looks at you."

"You're wrong," Frostpaw said quietly. "Pinepaw doesn't feel _anything_ for me. You're just misreading the situation is all."

Dewpaw shook his head. "No, Frostpaw," he muttered. "I don't think I'm wrong at all. It's _you_ who's misreading the situation. You need to get over the fact that there are cats who care for you. I mean, _I_ care about you. ThunderClan doesn't hate you, either. And we don't think you're useless. In fact, you're helping us out a lot with your healing, and that makes us all love you all the more for it."

"You're still wrong," was all Frostpaw would say.

Dewpaw merely sighed and padded out of the medicine den, his words echoing in her head.

**. . .**

"How fast do I have to move?" Frostpaw asked.

"As fast as you can," Pinepaw answered, and in a slightly softer tone of voice, he mewed, "But I don't think you should with your breathing problems. It might make you have another attack."

"Of course," Frostpaw muttered resentfully, looking down at her paws. "Why does this condition make me so useless?"

Pinepaw sighed, and his face softened when he released it. "You don't truly know that until you've tried it," he said kindly, but Frostpaw knew that he was far away as usual, his eyes focused on something in the distance that wasn't really there. "So please, Frostpaw, try it before you come to any conclusions."

Frostpaw looked down at her paws, contemplating the situation.

Could she really do this?

Pinepaw had told her to try, but could she _really_ pull it off without suffering an attack?

Frostpaw didn't know, but she would do as her teacher had instructed and _try_.

"Come at me from behind, Frostpaw," Pinepaw said softly, and, as usual, he seemed to be off in his own little world. "I'm too slow to dodge with this leg, so you should be able to get me even if you don't get it the first time."

Frostpaw clenched her jaw, but nodded, already coming up behind him, a fair distance away from him. She judged the length between them and, using her instincts to guide her, she balanced herself carefully on her front paws, before lashing out with her back legs.

However, before her legs could hit him, her own balance failed her and she ended up in an awkward half-sitting, half-reclining position.

When Pinepaw seemed to realise that no hit was coming, he quickly turned, and when he saw her position, a smile curled his lips and his dreamy eyes lit up, if only for a second.

"It's not funny," Frostpaw grumbled, though a reluctant smile played at her own lips when Pinepaw's grin only widened. A moment later, she mewed, "Let's try it again."

His smile faded, and his lips pressed into a thin line. "Are you sure you'll be able to?" he asked quietly, his voice lowering to a quiet murmur as he said, "You won't have an attack?"

Frostpaw frowned. "I'll be fine," she mewed. "Besides, I nearly got it the first time."

"If you really think so," Pinepaw responded uncertainly. "But as soon as you feel you're going to have one, then tell me immediately and we'll stop."

"Of course," she answered, and as she said that, he got back in position

They performed the same move a few more times, and every time, Frostpaw ended up in the same position. She felt frustrate at the lack of progress.

She failed the move countless times, and yet, she still didn't know _why_. She was doing everything correct, she knew, but she never got it _right_.

"Why isn't it working?!" Frostpaw yelled, pawing the ground roughly in frustration. "I'm doing _everything_ right! So why isn't it working?!"

"Frostpaw," Pinepaw murmured, turning around and padding toward her. "Frostpaw, calm down."

"Calm down?!" she questioned in disbelief, piercing him with angry blue eyes. "You want me to _calm down_?!"

"Yes," he answered calmly, and his usual dreamy eyes were sharp and _alert_. "That's _exactly_ what I want you to do."

Frostpaw growled irritably and just as she was about to turn away from him, she felt a familiar tightness in her chest. She froze, her eyes going wide, and she hoped that if she were still as possible, then the feeling would disappear.

But unlike last time when the feeling faded away after a few short moments, this one lingered.

Whenever she tried to breathe, the pressure on her chest only built up, and she sucked in a shuddering breath.

"P-Pinepaw," she managed to gasp out, and he was there in an instant, gazing down at her with worried eyes. "I-I can't-" she broke off, unable to finish her sentence.

"Frostpaw, look at me," he mewed sternly, and in response, she shakily lifted her head. "Now, calm down, and _breathe_. Can you do that for me?"

With her vision already beginning to go fuzzy, Frostpaw could only shake her head as she felt her limbs start to go weak, her small, frail body barely holding her up.

"No, Frostpaw," Pinepaw barked out sharply, and she thought that she could detect a small amount of panic in his voice. "Frostpaw, stay awake, okay? Don't fall asleep on me, please! Just breathe for me, and don't close your eyes!"

Frostpaw slumped against him, and she felt him hurriedly hold her up by her scruff. "Too late," she slurred. "I can… feel myself slipping."

And as everything faded away, all she could think was: _Is this really the end?_

"_Frostpaw!_"

**. . .**

Frostpaw woke with a gasp, and it was to the feeling of something large and heavy pressing down on her chest.

She groaned wearily, blinking open her eyes.

"Where… am I?"

Frostpaw didn't have to be a mouse-brain to know where she was- it was quite obvious as to whose den she was in.

There was a rustle to her left, and she tiredly turned her head, slightly surprised at what she saw.

Pinepaw was lying on her left, his eyes drooping closed- he looked incredibly weary, Frostpaw realised. So, just how long had he been there for?

"Pinepaw?" she mewed, and winced at how cracked and raspy her voice sounded- as well as the dried fluid around her lips.

She raised a paw and wiped away at her mouth, but even the smallest action left a crippling tiredness in its wake.

"Pinepaw?" she murmured, and at the sound of her voice, he jerked awake, piercing her with frantic amber eyes.

"Are you alright?" he demanded. "Can you breathe properly?"

In response, Frostpaw drew in a breath and cringed at how it made a rattled and clogged up noise in her throat. "I can breathe a bit," she admitted. "But not much."

"I'm sorry," Pinepaw said suddenly, surprising her. "It's my fault. If I hadn't taught you that move, then you wouldn't be here right now struggling to breathe."

"But I'm the one who asked you to teach me," Frostpaw countered softly. "So if it's anyone's fault, then it's my own. But you really helped me, you know? You made me feel… happier, though a little frustrated whenever you seemed to blame yourself for something that was clearly _my_ fault. Like now, for example."

Pinepaw sighed, leaning forward and resting his chin on his paws. "I really thought I was going to lose you," he whispered, his dreamy eyes wide and intense. "I don't know what would have happened if I did."

"You're the only one who understands how I feel," Frostpaw whispered back, and just as Pinepaw was about to open his mouth to reply, a cat abruptly entered the den.

It was a tom with thick, dark-grey fur and bright amber eyes.

Dewpaw.

"Frostpaw," he greeted, and she nodded in acknowledgement. "You're awake, and… he's still there."

"Dewpaw," Pinepaw murmured. "Your sister only just woke up, and I think it would be best if someone got Mosslight or Cloverleaf to have a look over her."

"I'll go," her brother offered.

But Pinepaw shook his head, mewing, "On second thought, I think I'll just go and get her myself. I'm sure the both of you will want to catch up."

And before anyone could protest, he had already gotten up and left, leaving Frostpaw to watch at his retreating back in dismay.

"He seemed uncomfortable," Dewpaw commented. "Strange, but considering that it's Pinepaw, I shouldn't be surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"Hmm?" Dewpaw glanced at her, and when she repeated her question, he grinned somewhat cheekily. "Oh, you'll find out in a few moons, dear sister."

A moment later, Pinepaw returned with Mosslight in tow, the dappled white and brown she-cat looking slightly frazzled. Cloverleaf followed on behind, despite the fact that only Mosslight would be needed.

The medicine cat apprentice seemed a little overwhelmed, as well as nervous. Frostpaw couldn't understand why, after all, hadn't Cloverleaf performed dozens of examinations on various other cats? What made her any different?

Frostpaw was silent as Mosslight performed the standard examination that came to her attacks: checking her pulse and her chest, then giving her some coltsfoots.

"Rest for a few days and then you'll be fine," Cloverleaf offered up, smiling hesitantly.

"Knowing Frostpaw, she'll be up _tomorrow_," Mosslight muttered. "That's how fast she recovers."

And, true to the medicine cat's words, Frostpaw was up and about the camp, but she was forbidden from training, as that was what had triggered her attack in the first place.

"Will I _ever_ become a warrior?" she moaned to Pinepaw. "Or will I just stay at kit rank forever?"

Pinepaw shot her a sympathetic look. "Maybe you should ask Cinderstar," he suggested. "He might do something about it.

"I don't know," she hesitated, then cast a wide-eyed glance up at him. "Do you really think he'll say yes?"

Pinepaw shrugged. "He may," he answered vaguely, "Or he may not. We'll just have to wait and see."

They padded to Cinderstar's den together, their sides lightly touching.

Frostpaw peered through the lichen curiously, wondering what was inside.

"What do you want?" the ThunderClan leader's harsh, unfamiliar voice growled.

Without hesitating, Frostpaw met his gaze with fierce, fiery blue eyes, and she blurted out her desire.

"Please, let me become an apprentice!"

**. . .**

"Now!" her teacher barked.

Huffing and puffing, Frostpaw struggled to adhere to his commands. And when she did, albeit with a familiar tightness present in her chest, she successfully balanced her weight on her front paws before lashing out with her back legs.

He grunted slightly as the attack made impact on his back, and it sent him staggering a few tail-lengths. Nevertheless, Frostpaw was quite proud of herself for finally perfecting the difficult move, and using it in battle with it actually _working_ only heightened her self-esteem.

"You did really well, Frostpaw," he praised.

Feeling strangely shy, she simply murmured, "I couldn't have done it without your help, Pinefoot."

Pinefoot smiled back at her, his dreamy eyes looking as if he were in his own little world. "You worked hard for it," he reminded her. "And you were rewarded with these fantastic results."

It had been over three moons since Cinderstar had appointed her as an apprentice, and Frostpaw had worked incredibly hard since to prove that she was worthy of the rank.

"I'm no longer a kit," Frostpaw realised. "But I'm not a warrior yet, either."

"You will be soon," Pinefoot mewed kindly, and she felt that strange shy feeling again.

Frostpaw had never felt anything like it. Just what did it mean?

She didn't know.

Maybe she should ask her mother for advice? After all, Pebblefur was supposed to know _everything_ there was to know about for she-cats, _especially_ if they feel something strange around a cat they've known for moons.

"Uh, Pinefoot," Frostpaw mewed, glancing up at him. He was gazing intently back at her, his eyes dreamily taking in her entire form. "When can I go? I want to ask my mother something."

"Soon," Pinefoot murmured. "I want to teach you one last move, and it's fairly simple. When I pin you to the ground, just play dead."

To her horror, Frostpaw felt something inside of her tingle at his words and, like before, a wave of shyness washed over her.

"Okay," she said quietly. "When do we start?"

"Now," Pinefoot answered softly.

And that was all the warning she got before he suddenly leaped at her, and, true to his words, he pinned her to the ground, hovering above her.

"Play dead now," he mewed. "And make it your best imitation."

The second his sentence finished, Frostpaw felt herself go limp and her eyes slip closed. Her breathing came out in harsh, unsteady breaths, and for a moment, she thought she was having an attack.

Her entire body felt warm, and it felt as if her stomach were filled with _butterflies_.

"You're so beautiful, Frostpaw," Pinefoot murmured.

Frostpaw gasped, and her eyes snapped open. She glimpsed Pinefoot hovering over her with an uncertain expression on his face, but when he saw her gazing at him, his face smoothed out.

"You did a good imitation," he mewed.

Frostpaw blinked.

Pinefoot was suddenly gone.

She sighed, muttering, "I need that talk with Pebblefur right now."

Frostpaw found her mother in the clearing overlooking the Highrock, sharing a rabbit with her mate, Snowfoot.

Suddenly overcome by nerves at the sight of her father, Frostpaw hesitantly padded over to the pair, and mewed, "Uh, Pebblefur, can I talk to you?"

Her mother glanced up to see who it was, and when she knew, her expression brightened. "Ah, Frostpaw!" she exclaimed. "What did you want?"

Frostpaw felt embarrassed all of a sudden, and it didn't help that her father was there and steadily ignoring her by staring at his food. "I, uh, just wanted to know something," she mumbled.

"What is it?" her mother asked kindly.

She sighed, before blurting, "Whenever I'm around Pinefoot, I keep getting this really weird feeling. It feels as if my body's burning and there are butterflies in my stomach. I don't know what it means, so can you tell me?"

Pebblefur didn't even blink. "And what do you like the most about Pinefoot?" she inquired calmly.

Frostpaw felt herself flush, before answering: "Uh, I guess I like the sound of his voice, it's really sweet sounding. Oh, and I can't forget his eyes!" she started to list out, excitement seeping into her voice. "They're so bright, and sometimes, it's as if you're staring into a dream! Also, I like his pelt, his claws, his feet, and the russet colour on his belly." She lowered her voice into a murmur, "And he's the kindest, most lovely cat in ThunderClan."

Pebblefur suddenly chuckled, and she mewed, "I know what's wrong with you, Frostpaw."

Frostpaw was alert. "What is it?" she asked quickly. "It's not another… _condition_, is it? Because even if it wasn't, I find it kind of fascinating, but like Mosslight and Dewstrike say, it isn't very good when I get fascinated, is it?"

She stopped her ranting when her mother gave her a _look_.

"Do you really want to know, Frostpaw?" her mother finally asked.

This time, it was Frostpaw who gave her a look. "Of course I do," she mewed, all the while her mother smiled, as if the answer were some great secret or other.

"You're in love with him, Frostpaw," Pebblefur murmured. "You're in love with Pinefoot."

**. . .**

"StarClan honours your courage and determination," Cinderstar rumbled, his growl reverberating around the clearing.

Frostpaw felt her heart bleed with anticipation; just what would the ThunderClan leader name her?

She knew that her brother, Dewstrike, had received his name based on his prowess in battle, and her teacher, Pinefoot, had received his based on his twisted back leg, as cruel as the reminder was.

But what would her name be?

Would it represent her prowess in healing, or something else?

"I name you Frostbreath," Cinderstar finally announced.

Frostbreath?

Did it represent her condition? A cruel, stark reminder that warned that her breathing would never be normal for the entirety of her life?

She didn't know.

As one, ThunderClan cheered for her: "Frostbreath, Frostbreath, Frostbreath!"

But she decided that she liked her new name, and she would embrace it. And while the depression and horrible loneliness and the feeling isolation would never fully go away, she was determined to make the most of her life.

She was Frostbreath.

"Frostbreath!" Pinefoot was cheering the loudest of all, and Frostbreath swallowed.

Long had she questioned this affection that she held for him, this love? It was a long time coming, and though she didn't fully understand it for herself, she knew that her feelings were real.

Pinefoot had always been there for her from the moment they had met, and he was the one who had broken down her barriers, the one who had shown her that she wasn't truly alone.

He showed her that she could depend on someone.

Frostbreath padded over to him amidst the loud cheering of her Clanmates. His eyes were as dreamy as normal, and though he seemed to once again be off in his own little world, he acknowledged her presence with a small smile that softened his entire face, the creases around his mouth and eyes disappearing as his lips pulled up.

"I see that you've finally achieved your dream," Pinefoot teased. "You're finally a warrior."

"Yes," Frostbreath answered softly, smiling up at him.

There was a few seconds of silence until Frostpaw ventured, "Pinefoot?"

"Hmm?" the warrior hummed, still in his own little world.

"I want to tell you something. And I know that you might not care, but I still want to tell you."

Pinefoot looked interested, and he mewed, "Of course I'll care, Frostbreath. Just tell me already."

"Okay," Frostbreath took a deep breath, and murmured, "When I met you, I knew that you were a fighter, Pinefoot. And to know that you were like me made me feel slightly better, because you _knew _how I felt. You _knew_ the depression and the loneliness I was facing. The what if's and the why me's, you knew _everything_. And yet, you never contradicted me. You never told me that I was useless. When I was around you, I felt like _me_. And I don't know when I started to feel this… this affection for you. I don't know when I truly fell _in love_ with you."

Pinefoot was silent throughout her entire confession, and his dreamy eyes suddenly narrowed when the last word left her lips, and she felt flustered and embarrassed.

_I _knew _that this was a bad idea_, she thought.

"You knew how _I _felt," Pinefoot mewed. "And you _know_ how I feel, so I'm just going to skip the sappiness and go on from there."

"What do you mean?" Frostbreath whispered, and she refused to hope, because he simply _couldn't _feel the same way when she barely understood these feelings herself.

But she dared to hope.

And his next words made her feel _happy_.

Not content or fine, but _happy_.

"It means that I love you, too."

**. . .**

"Tell us more!" Oakkit demanded.

"Yeah, what he said!" Petalkit added.

Frostbreath shook her head in exasperation, though her chest seized in warning at her action.

It had been moons since she had had an attack, and they weren't as common now that she was getting older. She supposed that she was growing out of them, but that didn't mean that her breathing problems left her entirely. Oh no, the last attack she'd had was when she was giving birth to the kits, though it was only a mild one, thank StarClan.

The two kits on the ground looked up at her with huge amber eyes- Pinefoot's eyes, she was happy to note.

Oakkit was a near carbon copy of his father, though he had retained her smaller, frailer stature- something that the proud kit wasn't really happy about.

Her daughter, Petalkit, was very cute. Her pelt was white with light-brown splotches that looked like fallen petals.

They were nearly six moons, and they hadn't been born with any deformities, no matter how much Oakkit kept remarking that Pinefoot had twisted his back leg in an epic battle with ShadowClan.

Oakkit loved his father with the sweetness of a kit, and he dream was to be the leader of ThunderClan one day.

Petalkit however, had different ambitions. Instead of wishing to become a warrior, she had expressed an interest in the art of _healing_.

Her sweet daughter wished to become a medicine cat.

Frostbreath knew that Cloverleaf would be all too happy to take on an apprentice now that Mosslight had retired to become an elder, leaving her the sole medicine cat in ThunderClan.

And as for Frostbreath…

Well, she was mainly content as a Queen for the time being, and even her battle-worthy brother, Dewstrike had settled down, his mate already expecting kits.

"Tell us another story, Frostbreath!" Oakkit begged.

"Yeah," Petalkit mewed. "Please? Just one more story before we go to sleep?"

Frostbreath chuckled slightly, then shushed her kits gently.

"Alright," she mewed. "But only one more. After that, you have to go to sleep."

"Okay," her kits chorused as one.

Frostbreath didn't even have to think which story to tell them. "Well," she began. "There was once a kit, and she was incredibly lonely. The other cats weren't like her, and so she always felt depressed, believing that she was useless to her Clan. That wasn't true, however, as her Clan loved her as much as they loved their other member. One day, she met another cat who was just like her. He was a fighter, and he taught her an important lesson.

"What was that, Frostbreath?" Petalkit piped up.

Frostbreath smiled down at her daughter.

"He taught her how to breathe."


End file.
